What’s in a Name? :: Personal Narrative Writing

What’s in a Name? My dad has this old Bill Cosby record that he used to listen to in the age of record players (now he's got the very same in CD version). It was a comedy routine in which Cosby describes his childhood. He reminisces in particular about how he could tell when he was in trouble. His father would say something to the effect of "GODDAMIT, GET OVER HERE!", and then Cosby throws out the punch line of the story: Up until he was about ten years old, he thought his name was "GODDAMIT." I never had to be addressed as GODDAMIT to know I was in trouble. In my father's voice, it was volume that usually revealed this information. When my eardrums hurt from hearing my name, my FULL name, JANET PAULINA MORRIS, my dad didn't want any other poor children within earshot to think they were in trouble; however, he did intend for everyone within a five-mile radius to hear that I was in for it. When my mother had to call out my name in order to reprimand me, even if it was in private, she had to pretend we were in church or something. Her voice became very low pitched, almost a whisper, and then came the recitation of the three lovely words with which I had been baptized, JANET PAULINA MORRIS. Though she nearly whispered, there was nothing serene or endearing in her tone of voice when scolding me. It didn't matter what she said . . . "I love you very much" could be thrown from her mouth like a dagger when she used that tone of voice. There is a point in communication where words are of no consequence in bringing across a particular message. Sometimes, what is said is irrelevant, and how it is said singularly brings across this message. It all depends on diction. Aristotle was the first to coin the term "diction" in his analysis of the making of art and other things in Poetics. Diction, Aristotle claimed (only I think he made this claim in Greek), clarifies language and alludes to a source of interest in a speaker's tone of voice. My mother's source of interest was, um, well . . . me. She wanted to make sure that I knew exactly where she was coming from and exactly what I was supposed to do about it.